


towers of gold

by midnightandmuffins



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightandmuffins/pseuds/midnightandmuffins
Summary: Kaz Brekker had a dream. More of a desire, really. He would build a tower of gold on the soil of his enemies, load his cannons and point them towards anything that came his way.A Kaz Brekker character study.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	towers of gold

i. find your calling

Kaz Brekker had a dream. More of a desire, really. He would build a tower of gold on the soil of his enemies, load his cannons and point them towards anything that came his way. He would burn down everything before him and remodel it, reshape it, recast it till it was no more.

He would make it his. Destruction, death, dirty cash, he would make it his.

His armor would shine in the moonlight, golden but imperceptibly streaked with grime. Filth and riches went together, didn’t they? They went hand in hand with terror which earned him respect.

And that was all he craved.

That is why when they screamed before him, he did not flinch. He let them scream, let their blood flow over the ground, stick to the soles of his shoes. He let them die because some people deserved it in this empire he was creating. Yet he, the one most deserving of all, didn’t, in fact, die.

How curious.

ii. master it

It was painful, to feel nothing. Wasn’t the empty ache more unbearable than the slice of even the sharpest of knives? It killed slowly instead of swiftly.

Kaz Brekker had been nothing. Rags and dirt and filth had been his empire then, and still was now. But now he had soldiers to serve his empty throne while he watched from the sidelines. It all took place in his court and The Crow Club bustled with hopeless wanderers, just another meal for him. He starved for their cold, hard kruge.

He had to bury all emotion. Suppress it, hide it, destroy it. It wouldn’t do for him to waver when he wiped the blood off his hands, would it? He would look weak and weakness was something he could not afford. He proved his point with his pressed dark suits, his spotless cane and his glinting eyes.

iii. find your weakness

He could not help but feel when she was near him. She managed to make him feel guilt. Crushing guilt. For his Wraith was everything he was not. She was pure and beautiful and wise and even when she killed with her deadly knives, her saints forgave her for she was devoted.

He was none of those things.

He could not pray to her saints so he prayed to her instead. Frantic prayers in the middle of the night when he was alone and hated himself for what he was. Hated himself for being what he had once been afraid to find lurking in the dark. How ironic it was, that a monster would find solace in a murderer with faith.

iv. crush it

Perhaps she would redeem him, wash away his filth. Then again, he didn’t want to be redeemed. He would never deserve her so he steeped himself in the filth she probably abhorred so he wouldn’t have to see the look on her face when she realised he was a monster.

Because that way, she would know it before she looked.

He could not be what she wanted. Could not bring himself to touch, feel or open up.

If you open a wound it will surely be lit on fire.

So he hid. Hid behind kruge and gold and filth and gloves and a barrier he put up between his mind and the rest of the world. He would not give her false hope. If he couldn’t be a prince, he would be a dragon instead.

v. burn the building down

And so Kaz Brekker thrived in the tomb of his mind, never leaving, never letting anyone in. But if you stay in one place too long, it starts to weigh you down.

So Dirtyhands kept going. The next heist, the next robbery, the next plot, the next endeavour, and when there was nothing left to do, he burned it all down and started again. He didn’t step on his enemies, he reduced them to ash and once he was done he spread the ash on his flower beds of spite and used it to make his anger thrive.

Why build one tower and watch it dull if you can build a thousand, burn them down and light up your empire with the flames?

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn't very well edited and this is my first post here, so I hope you won't be too harsh! however, i do welcome constructive criticism :)


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